Family Issues
by Beckett Towns
Summary: Teenage Sammy doesn't always agree with his family. He wants more than anything for his family to be safe, and to get out of the life he's forced to be a part of.
1. Chapter 1

**_I believe someone once said "Write what you know." Well... this is what I know._**

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"Sammy, open the God damn door" Dean growled, leaning his forehead against said door and trying to hear any noise coming from behind it. There was silence. Sam had been shut in the bathroom of their motel for over an hour, and refused to talk to him. Dean knew it was his fault, but he also thought that Sam was being unreasonable. He could've gotten into the room by picking the lock, but he didn't want to lose any more of Sammy's trust.

Suddenly the door opened, and Dean saw a mixture of emotions on his little brother's face. His eyes were red and puffy from crying, but they were dry now, and glaring at Dean. "You're going to end up killing yourself, Dean" he stated, and slammed the door again.

"Sam-" Dean tried to stop the door from closing again, but he wasn't fast enough. "Dammit, Sammy, come out of the fucking bathroom and talk to me!" Dean turned and punched a hole in the wall behind him, and when he turned back to the door, he saw that Sam had opened it and his face looked more scared than anything else. Dean immediately regretted punching the wall and got on his knees in front of his little brother. At sixteen, Sam still hadn't had the growth spurt their father expected would make him taller than both of them, and he was still almost a foot shorter than Dean. "I'm sorry, Sammy, I didn't mean to upset you more, I-"

"Which time?" Sam's voice was angry, and Dean was mentally kicking himself for upsetting his brother so much. He was supposed to be the one protecting him, not hurting him.

"Every time" Dean said quietly, and Sam scoffed

"Yeah, well, sometimes sorry isn't good enough" Sam turned and walked back into the bathroom, but didn't shut the door this time. Dean didn't follow. "Is your hand okay?" he asked in a slightly less angry voice, and Dean shook his head in wonder. Even when Sam was beyond pissed at him, he still wanted to be sure he was okay.

"Yeah" He answered, bending and unbending his fingers, "I don't think it's broken this time. Listen, Sammy, I really am sor-"

"Stop it!" Sam yelled, cutting him off, "Stop saying you're sorry!"

Dean was slightly shocked at this sudden outburst, "Why?"

Sam stood up and walked to the door of the bathroom again, leaning on the doorframe. "Because" he said simply, glaring daggers at Dean.

"Because why?"

"Because, Dean, it doesn't change a damn thing. Remember when you said you'd stop drinking? Well, I believed you the first five times" Dean tried to say something, but Sam held up his hand, stopping him. "What's your excuse this time? _It's not that easy, Sammy? I'm 21 now, I can make my own decisions_?_ It's not illegal anymore_? Or my favorite, _Dammit, I'm not having this conversation_? Believe me, Dean, I've heard all of your excuses, and none of them are going to work. I know how hard it was for you to stop, so why the hell did you start again? Just because it's legal doesn't make it okay. Just…just leave me alone." He quietly shut the door and leaned his back against it, sliding down to sit on the floor when more tears came.

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The next morning, Sam woke up to the sound of someone tapping on the door. He hadn't come out of the bathroom all night, and he couldn't have slept more than two hours. "Sam?" Dean called through the wood of the door, "Sammy, I have to pee and I'm not sure the motel would appreciate me peeing in their fake plant."

Sam stood up and opened the door, muttering something sarcastically about Dean always doing what people wanted him to. "I'm going for a walk." He told Dean, and Dean tried to object, but Sam was out the door before he could finish his sentence.

Sam kept walking until he reached a bridge. He walked to the edge and rested his forearms on the rail. He had a strong urge to jump. He stared at the water and rocks below and thought that he always had the urge to jump when he looked down from a higher place. He was thinking that that probably wasn't a good thing when a panting Dean came running down the street toward him.

"Sam…" he panted, "you can't…just leave…like that" Sam turned and started walking the other way.

"I told you I was leaving."

"Yes, but you know what dad said. He said to stay in the room and not leave. He said not to leave, Sammy."

Sam stopped walking, and spun on his heel "Screw what Dad said! Did he also tell you to drink your brains out yesterday?! You left then, you know. But no, you don't know, because you were too drunk to have remembered that. I had to chase you and drag your drunk ass home from that bar on the corner." He pointed "You know, you're bigger than me, it's not that easy to support most of your weight for two blocks, especially when all you wanted to do was turn around and go back to the bar."

Dean looked back at the bar. It didn't look familiar at all. "I remember you trying to get me to stop drinking at the motel." Dean said, "I remember you throwing the beer bottle at the wall and it shattering." His eyebrows scrunched together, trying to remember. "I might remember leaving. I don't remember the bar."

"Yeah," Sam said, "I got rid of all the beer in the room, so you had to go get more alcohol from the bar. They almost wouldn't let me in, you know. Eventually I convinced them I was just trying to get you home and I really wouldn't drink anything."

"Shit, I'm sorry, Sammy." Dean tried to put his hand on his brother's shoulder, but Sam jerked away.

"Yeah," he said, starting to walk the other way again, "You're always sorry."


	2. Chapter 2

"Sam, wait!" Dean called, and Sam stopped to turn back to him. "Let's go get breakfast."

"I'm not hungry." Sam said, and his stomach chose that time to growl. Dean raised his eyebrows and Sam sighed and followed Dean a diner next to the bar. Sam didn't speak to him the whole time. Dean tried time after time to get him to say something, anything, but the only time he made a sound was when ordering from their waitress. Eventually he gave up and they ate their meals in silence.

When they were almost finished with their food Dean went to the bathroom and when he got back to the table Sam was gone.

"Dammit!"

He dropped a twenty on the table and ran out of the diner, his eyes scanning everywhere for a sign of Sam. He didn't see anything.

After a block or two Dean slowed to a walk. He was looking around every corner for his brother, but couldn't find him anywhere. He knew that Sam had probably just left, but his mind was playing every scenario in which Sam was snatched by whatever it was their dad was hunting. He hadn't told them what it was, but apparently he thought that it was too dangerous for the boys to help him with it.

Eventually Dean gave up on finding Sam outside, went back to the motel to see if he could call Sam's cell phone, and found his brother passed out on one of the beds. He breathed a sigh of relief knowing that Sam was safe.

"Thank god" he whispered. He was also glad that Sammy was finally getting some sleep. He knew that he didn't usually sleep much on the nights when they had fights about his drinking, and last night wasn't any different. It had been two a.m. When they had stopped yelling at each other, Dean had woken Sam up at eight, and he knew that Sam would've had trouble falling asleep between those times. He always did. Dean sat on the other bed and watched Sam sleep for a few minutes. He loved that all of the worry and anger that was usually in his face was gone.

Sam actually looked sixteen.

Sam was always worrying about their dad or about Dean or something so that the only time his face was peaceful was when he was sleeping. Dean felt bad for the kid. He was sixteen; he should be worrying about grades or school dances, not about being killed by a demon or some other creature that goes bump in the night. Dean would give anything for Sam to be as innocent about those things as most kids his age. He deserved it. He deserved so much more than this life that he hated.

Dean knew that he hated always moving around everywhere. The longest he had gone to a single school was three months. Sam deserved a chance to have actual friends that he didn't always have to leave behind the next week.

He deserved an actual family, not one where his mom was dead, his dad was always gone, and his brother had alcoholic tendencies.

He deserved to have a simple, normal life. Dean knew that was what he wanted more than anything.

But most of all, no matter how much Sam didn't believe it, he deserved a better brother and a better protector than Dean could be for him.

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A couple hours later Sam started yelling and twitching in his sleep. Dean jumped off his bed and shook Sam's shoulders, trying to wake him up but not startle him too much. He took a punch to the jaw before Sam opened his eyes and saw him standing there.

Sam burst into tears and threw himself into Dean's arms, startling him.

"What happened, Sammy?" Dean tried to pull back to look at his brother's face, but Sam refused to loosen his grip around Dean's neck.

"We were…And I dreamt…Dean!" Sam sobbed, and Dean hugged him tighter.

"Sammy, it's okay! It was just a dream" Dean told him, smoothing the hair on the back of his head. He rubbed his jaw. "Jesus, your subconscious hits hard."

"I'm so sorry, Dean" Sam sank back onto the bed and wiped at his eyes. "Dean… Dean, you died" he whispered "You're going to end up killing yourself" he said, but he didn't sound angry anymore. He sounded depressed, and Dean would rather him have shouted it like he had the night before.

"I'm okay, Sammy." He said quietly, brushing Sam's bangs out of his face "I'm not going anywhere"

Sam shook his head "No, you can't promise that, Dean. You don't know that you're not. You could," Sam's eyes started to water again, "and then where would I be? What would I do? I can't do this by myself, Dean. You're my brother. You're my best friend. I need you."

Dean wiped a tear from his brother's cheek and gave him the tightest hug he could without feeling like he was going to break him. "I'm going to try my dammedest to not go anywhere." he whispered, "I'm not going to leave you, Sammy. I promise." He released his brother and Sam wiped at his eyes. Sometimes he thought that their biggest problem was that they cared too much about each other.

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Sam refused to sleep that night. "No," he said when Dean told him he needed to sleep. "I don't want to have another nightmare."

Dean sighed, knowing how stubborn Sam was. "Sammy, it's three a.m, you're going to have to sleep eventually."

"You're not sleeping,"

"You need more sleep than I do, Sam, you know that" Dean told him, and Sam just shook head. "Listen," Dean said, patting the bed next to him, "You sleep next to me, and I'll be here all night. If you start having a nightmare, I'll wake you up."

Sam shook his head again, "No, you need to sleep too, Dean. Don't not sleep just for my sake."

"I'll be fine, Sam, I promise. It won't be the first time I've pulled an all-nighter."

"No, Dean."

"Sammy, please. Just get some sleep."

Sam paused before eventually giving in and lying next to Dean. "Thank you, Dean" he told him, "I love you."

Dean gave him a small smile, "Love you too, Sammy."

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_**So, I don't know if I should continue this or just leave it there. I kind of like this ending, but if you guys want I could keep writing it. Thoughts?**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**BTW I'm picturing this fic taking place during the summer, so that's why Sam doesn't have to go to school**_

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Their dad got home at about five that morning, and Dean saw the look of surprise on his face when he saw that he was awake.

"What are you doing up?" John asked, and Dean nodded toward Sam's sleeping form. At some point during the night Sam's head had ended up on Dean's lap, and he didn't have the heart to move him even though his leg had fallen asleep an hour ago.

"He had a nightmare. Promising to be awake in case he had another one was the only way to get him to go to sleep."

John nodded. He knew this wasn't the first time Dean had done something like that. "We need to leave, soon, Dean." He said, "I found another job. You two can help on this one."

"Okay" Dean nodded to the corner of the room, "If you carry our bags I'll carry Sammy to the car." Dean scooped Sam into his arms as John went to get the bags, and Sam stirred and mumbled something.

"Shh," Dean told him, "Just go back to sleep" Sam nodded, mumbled, and rested his head against Dean's chest. Dean chuckled and carried his little brother out of the motel, somewhat awkwardly given that his leg was asleep, and put him in the back seat of the Impala.

Once they had been driving for about ten minutes Dean asked, "So, where are we going now?"

"Ottawa Lake, Michigan. A woman was killed in her own house, all doors and windows were locked, and her husband went missing a month ago."

"Vengeful spirit?" Dean leaned his seat back and shut his eyes. Michigan was far enough away for a nap.

"That's what I'm thinking." John answered.

Five minutes later Dean was asleep.

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"Alright, boys, rise and shine!" John called a few hours later. Dean and Sam both groaned and rubbed at their eyes as they sluggishly got out of the car and grabbed their bags.

"How long are we going to be here?" Sam grumbled, looking around the dirty room. He hated motels.

"Shouldn't be more than a few days," John answered, ruffling Sam's hair. Sam ducked away scowling. "I'm going to go do some interviewing, Sammy, you stay here and do some research on this couple" he handed Sam a newspaper article.

"Why can't I come with you?" Sam whined, and John sighed.

"If people see a kid with me they're not going to believe I'm a cop, Sam. You know that." Sam tried to interject, but John stopped him, "No. You're going to stay here, and that's that."

Sam went to sit on one of the beds, grumbling about always being left behind. "Come on, Dean," John called as he headed toward the door, "This cop needs a partner."

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Sam was still upset about being left behind as the three of them drove to the house that the ghost was residing in that night. They had learned that the body of her husband had been found and cremated, but she kept a lock of his hair in a locket that was in that house. When they pulled up to the curb in front of the house, they all got out and Sam slammed his door.

"I'm not a damn child, Dad, and I'm not your dog! You can't just order me around and expect me to want to do everything you say!"

John grabbed his arm roughly and growled, "You are sixteen years old, and you will listen to what I tell you."

"And what if I don't? Huh?" Sam pulled his arm away, scoffing and walking the other way.

"Dammit, Sammy, every time something happens that you don't like, you just refuse to deal with it" John yelled at his retreating back, "You can't just walk away from everything, Sammy!" When Sam just continued walking, John turned to Dean, "Take him back to the motel for a while, I have to deal with this" he nodded toward the house and threw Dean the car keys, "I'll catch up with you later."

John walked up to the house, leaving Dean by himself. "Terrific" he muttered sarcastically. He always had to be the one to calm Sam down. Sam and John couldn't go two hours together without one of them exploding, and Dean was always the one caught in the middle trying to calm them down and keep them from killing each other. He got in the car and followed Sam down the road.

"Sammy, get in the car." He called when he caught up with him, "You need to calm down, but not out here. Come on."

"No."

"Sammy, get in the damn car before I make you." Dean threatened, and when Sam gave no response, he pulled the car up and parked it diagonally in front of his brother, blocking his path. As Sam started to go around the car, Dean jumped out and grabbed Sam around the middle from behind, picking him up and carrying him to the passenger's side. Sam was kicking Dean's shins over and over the entire time.

"Dammit, Sammy, just do what you're told for once in your life."

When Dean had successfully gotten Sam into the car and was behind the wheel, Sam started his usual rant about their father. "Why does he have to keep us on this fucking 'need to know' thing? Why can't he just treat us like actual human beings and tell us what he knows? How are we supposed to help when we hardly know anything about this case?"

"It's the way he runs things, Sammy."

"I'm not his dog! If he treats me like a dog again, I'm going to punch him in the face!"

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, "No, you won't, Sam. And you know he's not going to start treating you any different."

"I swear, the minute I turn eighteen, I'm leaving."

"He won't like that" Dean warned, and immediately knew it was the wrong thing to say. Sam started ranting again.

"I don't give a fuck what he _wants_, Dean! I want to go to college. I want to be a normal person for once; I want to live a normal life! Has he ever considered what_ I_ want? No. He's too focused on making us his perfect little soldiers. Well, it may have worked on you, but it sure as hell won't work on me. I'm sorry if I'm not his kind of perfect, but for once in my life I'd like to actually do what _I _want."

"So talk to him about what you want, Sam, don't just yell at him every time he does something you don't like."

"He's never going to listen to me. You know that. In his eyes, his way is the only way, so screw what anyone else wants if it's different than his master plan."

By this time they had arrived back at the motel and Dean unlocked the door to their room. "Listen, Sammy, I'd like for you to have a normal life and be able to go to college, but you know this life, and I'm not sure it's possible to get out of it forever."

"Oh, yeah? I can. Watch me."

Dean didn't believe him, but he hoped to God that Sam was right.


End file.
